


So If You Fall Away, Please Come Back To Me

by Kye_Kreole



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Hades!Peter, Persephone!Michelle, Reincarnation, Spideychelle Week 2019, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-20 09:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19374232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kye_Kreole/pseuds/Kye_Kreole
Summary: When Peter meets Michelle, he can't help but feel like they've met before. He just can't remember when and where.Persephone chooses to travel with Hades to the Underworld and become his Queen.The two stories are more connected than they seem.





	So If You Fall Away, Please Come Back To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy! This was a labour of love and truly one of my favorite fics I've ever written.
> 
> Thanks to Scarlet for the Moodboard that inspired this fic.
> 
> Thanks to Medha for beta-ing and helping me make it so much better than it was.

Peter squinted as he stepped into the sunlight. Summertime was always weird for him. On the one hand, he loved taking strolls, hearing the kids on the carousel or watching people run around with their dogs. The park thrummed with life; not only the people but the trees and flowers, animals playing in the freshly mowed grass, or people taking boats out on the reservoir. He could join in for a few rounds of chess or wander around the north woods.

On the other hand, he was always so tired in the summer, needing to sleep early or take periodic naps throughout the day just to make it through a shift or a party. Ned always jokes that he’s a vampire but that’s not even close either. It’s just the extra daylight maybe. Or the general laziness of not being in classes.

It didn’t matter though. He breathed in the fragrant air and followed along the path headed for the Conservatory Water. He hums along with his music and just lets the energy of his surroundings hum along under his skin.

While strolling along the path, Peter's gaze shifted to someone sitting on a bench. After a fleeting moment he stopped and looked back.

She had long crinkly hair and dark skin. She wore a plain tee and jeans with a light jacket wrapped around her waist and she was reading a thick book in a foreign language. . 

Peter stopped in his tracks. He didn’t know why, but she looked so familiar. The line of her jaw, the slope of her nose, the color of her skin. Something about her just screamed, _Recognize me_.

She said something but he couldn’t hear over his music. 

He pulled out his earbuds. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, hands fumbling as he tried to pause his music. “I didn’t catch that.”

“I said to take a picture,” she repeated. She turned back to her book.

He continued to stare, trying to figure out where he knew her from.

“You want something from me, loser?” she asked without looking up.

“No,” Peter said. “It’s just that… Do I know you?”

She looked up and she furrowed her eyebrows. Her eyes traveled up and down his body, studying him. When she was finished, she turned her attention  back to her book.“Nope.”

Peter shook his head. He pointed to her book,“ _The Odyssey_ , huh?”

Her head snapped up and she stared at him.“I took some Greek my first couple semesters,” he said by way of explanation. “We had to read it for a final project in my last class. I struggled through and I can’t remember anything else.”

She squinted her eyes to study him harder. He didn’t move, not sure whether he should or not. He watched her face and noticed an imperceptible movement; her eyes widened a fraction then relaxed. She held her hand out to him as she stood up.

“Michelle Jones,” she said.

Peter could only gawk before he introduced himself, shaking her hand. “Peter Parker.”

They let go and Michelle reached down and picked up a bag by the bench.“Let’s talk, loser,” she said then started walking. 

He tripped over an exposed root as he stumbled along beside her. .

They walked around the Conservatory Water, watching the model sailboats and then headed down to 77th and Lexington for some tacos at Dos Toros. They talked about the story and the original Greek. 

“I think Charybdis is my favorite monster he out wits,” Peter muses.

“A giant hungry belching mouth?” Michelle asks.

Peter shrugs. “Big monster.”

Michelle shakes her head.

“What about you?” he asks.

“The suitors,” she says almost immediately. “He serves justice to men who think they have a right to take whatever it is they want. He saves his home and releases Penelope from an existence of servitude and harassment.”

Peter stares in awe. He could listen to her talk about Greek stories all day.

“What’s your favorite myth?” he asks.

She hesitates before answering, “The story of Persephone becoming Queen of the Underworld.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard it called that,” Peter says.

“Well what do you know about it?” Michelle asked.

“Well,” he started. “Persephone was the goddess of Spring and new life. One day she was in her garden when Hades appeared and kidnapped her, dragging her to-”

“Wrong.”

Peter watched her carefully. She was playing with the little wilted flowers at the center of the table e. 

“What do you mean?” he asked her, looking back at her face. She looked relaxed and lost in thought. 

“He didn’t kidnap her,” Michelle said. She looked up into his eyes. “It was her choice.”

* * *

Persephone walked around her garden; a giant field hidden in the mortal world. Her father had gifted it to her and it was where she found comfort 

She willed all the flowers to grow. The crocus in white, gold, and red spread through the field. Bougainvillea added patches of pink and magenta and the hyacinth softened it with violet. But something didn’t feel right. It never felt right.

She willed a patch to die and cleared it of the dry remains. Then she focused her energy on a new flower growing.

She watched it sprout then blossom. 

It never stopped amazing her. Humans had to wait to see the beauty. They had to tend and love it and it still may not bloom. How they could risk so much for so little made no sense to the young goddess.

She stood and began walking to another patch. As she knelt beside it, she felt a chill on the back of her neck.

She smiled and turned to see Hades behind her.

His alabaster skin shone in the bright sunlight and he wore a simple gold skirt around his waist. His brown hair was coiffed out of his face and his smile was bright.

“They’re beautiful,” he said. 

Persephone turned back and plucked a daffodil - his favorite - from the ground. She stood and turned back to her visitor and held out the flower.

 He reached for it but drew his hand back before he touched it. His smile faltered.

She chastised herself. How many times would she keep doing this before she remembered? Hades couldn’t touch living things in the mortal world.

She lowered the flower.

“It’s lovely,” Hades said. “You create such beauty.”

“I create chaos,” she replied. She broke the stem and waved  the thorns off. She tucked it behind her ear. She knew he was watching her carefully.

“Those are my favorite,” he says, gesturing to the gold flower.

“Oh?”

“Yes. It makes you look even more radiant than you usually do,” he says, adoration and awe clear in his voice and expression.

Persephone ducks her head, trying to hide her blush.

They walked among her creations, taking in the sights and scents. Persephone talked about Olympus, relaying Dionysus’ most recent blunder, and Apollo’s heartbreak. Hades spoke of the Underworld and the newest soul he had spared from the Asphodel Meadows.

Persephone held onto his every word, asking for details about the Land of the Dead. 

Hades seemed uncomfortable talking about it. “Take me with you,” she blurted.

He stopped, turning to look at her. She looked into his eyes.

“I want to see it,” she continued. “Everything dies, and I want to see what it’s like for the mortals.”

“You’re a goddess of life,” he said, shaking his head. “The Underworld is no place for you.”

“Shouldn’t I decide that?” she insisted. 

At first Hades was shocked, opening his mouth as if to say something. But then he smiled. 

“I guess that’s true,” he conceded.

“Then take me,” she repeated. “Let me see your domain.”

His breath hitched, and he turned his head, swallowing loudly.

“Then let’s go.” He offered his hand and she took it. He lead her to the edge of her garden where a chariot led by a black horse awaited them.

* * *

Peter got Michelle’s number and they parted ways that night. He walked to his apartment with a smile on his face.

He opened the door slipped in, pulling out his earbuds. He heard Ned in the kitchen cooking up something for dinner. 

“Hey, Ned,” Peter called out.

“Pete,” Ned greeted. “Where have you been?”

Peter walked into the little kitchen and took a seat. 

“I met someone,” he said, his eyes a thousand miles away.

Ned turned from the stove and stared wide-eyed at Peter.

“A girl?” he asked. 

When Peter nodded, Ned dropped the spoon in his hand and ran to noogie his head. “That’s my boy. Finally getting out there.”

“Stop it,” Peter laughed. He tried to squirm out but Ned just kept up his teasing.

“Wait ‘till I tell Cindy,” Ned continued, letting go and pulling his phone from his pocket. 

Peter stood up and went to his bedroom. He flopped onto his bed and pulled his phone out, scrolling through the contacts until he stopped over the newest addition.

 _Michelle Jones_. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d met before somewhere. He remembered her face glowing in the sunlight. She never really smiled, though she smirked a lot. He remembered her hand lifting the nachos from her plate, playing with the wilted flowers.

Something about her tugged at his gut, trying to tell him something.

He remembered she’d pulled the little flower out and tucked it behind her ear. 

He selected her name and dialed the number. He listened to it ring.

She picked up after five rings.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Michelle. It’s Peter.”

“Oh,” she said. There was rustling in the background. “Hey. What’s up.”

“I… I just…” Peter couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse except, “I wanted to hear your voice.”

Silence.

Then, “Oh.”

Peter mentally smacked his face.

“Sorry. That was way too cheesy.”

“Yeah,” she said. “It was.”

Peter waited for a “but” that never came.

“So,” he said.

“So,” Michelle echoed.

“Do you wanna meet up tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she said, voice deadpan.

“Awesome.”

They were quiet for a moment, before Michelle sighed.

“What time?” she asked. “And where do you want to meet up.”

“Oh right,” Peter said, brain scrambling for something to say. “I’ll text you.”

“Kay,” she said. He could almost hear the smirk that was surely on her face. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Peter agreed.

* * *

Persephone couldn’t believe what she was seeing in the Underworld. It was dark, lit by the jewels encrusted in the earth by generations past. She stood on the parapet of a grand castle built to imitate Olympus. She could see Elysium glowing like a star in the distance. The Asphodel Meadows stretched in front of her into the distance. She couldn’t see the Fields of Punishment but she could see a red glow in the distance where it could be.

“It’s incredible,” she remarked. She turned back to Hades.

He smiled at her. “Really?”

“Yes,” she said. “Though it could use a few more flowers.”

His smile faltered. “Nothing grows here. At least nothing as beautiful as you create.”

She looked over the other side of the wall. There was an open space clearly meant for a garden. Untouched soil divided by stone paths that wind through them to the palace entrance. Untapped potential.

“I can fix that.”

They made their way to the empty space.

“Stay back,” she said, pulling seeds from her satchel. 

“They won’t grow,” Hades insisted. “At least not as you expect.”

Persephone knelt in the dirt and began digging shallow holes and placing seeds in them.

“I’m Goddess of Spring,” she said. “They will grow as I will it.”

She covered the seeds and stepped back next to Hades. She turned to him. 

“Watch closely,” she whispered, then closed her eyes. She pushed her power into the soil and seeds. She urged them to grow, to create beauty where there is so little. She heard him gasp and knew it was working.

She could picture how everything would look. The tree, everything flower, she imagined and let it grow from her thoughts. She opened her eyes.

It was exactly as she imagined except for one detail. They had a luminescence about that brought more light than the jewels above. 

“That’s remarkable,” Hades said, stepping forward. Persephone followed him, entranced by the light

She knelt in the soil and touched a flower. It glowed a bright blue, like the sky.

“Persephone,” Hades said. She looked up and saw him holding one of the flowers. “I can hold them.”

She smiled at his look of wonder in the green light from the flower in his hand. 

“How?” he asked under her breath. 

Persephone stood up.“Because it grew here,” she theorised. “Perhaps the soil here has properties I’m not familiar with.

They looked at the flower, both of them giggling in the glow.

They looked at each other and their giggling stopped. She suddenly became aware of how much taller she was. She looked into his eyes. They always looked black in the sunlight, but somehow in the glow of the Underworld, they were softer, like soil. His pale skin shone in the light.

His smile dropped and his breathing became heavy.

“Persephone,” he whispered.

“I should return home,” she whispered. She glanced down to his lips. They looked soft, and inviting.

“You should,” he nodded. 

They leaned into each other.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered.

“Tomorrow,” Hades agreed.

They kissed, softly at first, then it grew more heated. Hades’s hands dropped to her waist, pulling her closer, she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

They pulled apart for air, pressing their foreheads together. 

“You could stay,” Hades offered. “You could be my queen and rule over the Underworld with me. You could have more standing with the gods and could have free reign over the plants you grow.”

“Yes,” she said, in disbelief. “Forever with you, as your queen? Yes.”

His smile was bright in the glow of the plants. He wrapped her in his arms and lifted her up, carrying her to his bed.

* * *

Peter chose to take her to the museum. They were running an exhibit of Greek artifacts, and he wanted to hear her opinion. 

He wore a printed button down, skinny jeans and his nicest sneakers. He gelled the hell out of his hair and spritzed on a little cologne before he ran out of the apartment hoping  he wasn’t late. He wasn’t, thank goodness.

He sat on the steps and watched the crowd intently for the face he’d thought and dreamed about all night.

“You ready, loser?”

Peter’s head snapped around. Michelle stood behind him looking even taller from the stairs. She wore a light sweater with jeans and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail. He scrambled to standing and tripped up the stairs to stand next to him. She smirked at him.

“I’m ready,” Peter said, and offered his arm to her. She seemed to consider it before she took it, rolling her eyes and muttering something under her breath he didn’t quite catch.

“You look beautiful,” Peter said as they entered. 

“Of course I do,” she replied, looking around at the pieces on display. “Beauty is a construct meant to make the majority of people feel inferior to those who fit the prescribed role of beauty. Not to mention that people can be ugly, know it, and live a perfectly happy life, not caring if they’re ‘beautiful.’”

She continued on, interrupting occasionally to comment on a piece or to actually ask his opinion on whatever she was talking about. He was never as articulate as her, but when he would finish, she would nod and then continue on, even bolstering what he had said.

They reached an area filled with statues of different deities. They stopped in front of each one and Michelle would tell her favorite story involving the deity. 

They finally reached a statue of Hades and Peter waited for her story. She was quiet for a moment, just looking at the creation. 

“Did you know that the gods died?” she asked.

Peter looked at her, confused. Her face was neutral, staring at the statue.

“What do you mean?” he prodded.

“Gods survive on belief,” Michelle explained. “When people stop believing, the gods slowly die. Well, not die, but disappear. Cease to exist. Lots of minor gods went first. Lots of the high gods like Zeus and Poseidon didn’t notice. But Hades did. So he figured out a way to protect him and Persephone. A spell of sorts that would allow their souls to be reborn as mortals. Forever. He gave control of the Underworld to Thanatos and they waited for it to come.”

Peter stared at her. Her gaze never left the sculpture. He wasn’t sure if she believed the story, or if she had made it up just to surprise him.

“Did it work?” he asked softly.

Michelle took a deep breath. 

“How should I know?” she replied. 

She pulled him onward looking at the rest of the exhibit.

When they were done they went to a diner. They laughed and talked about their families, their favorite books or movies. Peter told her all about Ned and Cindy and their relationship antics. Michelle regaled him with stories about Liz, Betty, and Abe and all their accomplishments and epic failures.

Peter insisted on taking her home, wanting to spend as much time as possible with her. They stood in front of her brownstone, basking in the evening light.

“So,” Peter said.

“So,” Michelle echoed, smirk on her face.

“This was fun,” Peter tried.

“It was,” she agreed.

They stood in silence, Peter trying to think of something to say while wishing she would say something.

“Would you wanna do something again?” he finally got out.

“I would,” she said. 

“Okay,” he said, his throat dry.

She rolled her eyes. “I’ll plan it this time.”

“Okay,” Peter repeated and smiled.

She smirked and shook her head. “Good night, Peter.”

She took a step up before he touched her arms to stop her.

“Wait,” he said, stepping up as well.

She was taller than him by a good margin but that really didn’t matter. Not when he looked into her eyes. He licked his lips and he saw her eyes look down to follow the movement. His own eyes glanced down to her lips. 

He leaned in and closed his eyes, praying this wasn’t a mistake.

His lips pressed softly against hers. He felt her reciprocate. He lifted a hand to cradle her face, letting the kiss melt and last a little longer.

He didn’t open his eyes when he pulled away, letting the moment wash over him. Kissing her felt right, natural even. Just like the day before when he swore he recognized her, it felt like both a first and hundredth kiss. He couldn’t describe why, but that’s how he felt.

He opened his eyes and saw her small smile. An actual smile. 

She whispered something and he could’ve sworn it was, “Hades.”

“What?” he asked.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. She seemed to sag slightly, but her smile stayed. 

“Good night, Peter.”

She walked up the steps to her door, looking back at him before she slipped inside.

His face hurt from how big his smile was. He walked back home enjoying the fading light.

Ned was playing video games when he got home and Peter joined him, trying to calm down from his giddy state.

They eventually called it quits and went to bed. Peter laid down, staring at the ceiling and remembering the date, her constant stream of facts and her opinions on those facts. He thought about the kiss and the settled feeling that accompanied it. 

He fell asleep thinking about Michelle, so it’s no surprise she pervaded his dreams as well.

* * *

They had a week of bliss. They were married and Persephone was crowned before the small nobility of the Underworld. The ceremonies were short and they spent more time in their bed chambers than outside. 

Then Hermes came.

They laid on the bed, naked under their sheets, when there came a knock on the door. 

“One moment,” Hades called out slipping off the bed and pulling on a skirt. Persephone wrapped the sheets around her tightly, already glaring at the door.

“Enter,” Hades called.

The door opened and Hermes stepping in, wearing a grim expression. His eyes widened at the sight of Persephone on the bed and Hades standing before him.

“My lord, Hades,” Hermes greeted. “I bring a message from your brother Zeus.”

Both Hades and Persephone sighed. They’d been expecting this but had been hoping to get more time.

“What did he say?” Hades asked, walking back to sit on the edge of the bed.

“He demands you return what you stole,” Hermes said. “His daughter was not yours to take.”

Persephone huffed and slipped off the bed, holding the sheets around her. 

“Tell my father,” she said, standing next to Hades, stroking his hair, “that if he wishes for me to return, he must come retrieve me himself.”

Hermes’ eyes bulged, clearly not expecting that. “My lady, but your father insists-”

“And I insist,” Persephone shouted, “he come himself, or he can stay on his throne like a coward and leave me with my husband.”

Hermes choked on air at that. Persephone looked at Hades and saw him smiling at her in awe. He stood and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a hand to her back. Persephone kissed back, her arms wrapped around his neck.

They ignored Hermes and barely heard his stuttering retreat.

They spent the rest of the day in bed.

Later, they were curled into each other basking in post-coital bliss.

“We should be ready for Zeus,” Hades said, kissing her neck softly.

“I’ve already thought of that,” Persephone replied, wrapping her arms around his back, feeling the muscles moving under his skin.

“Oh?” he asked against her long neck

“Yes,” she replied, arching her head back to give him more access. “So let’s not worry about that now.”

“Yes, my love.”

* * *

Peter woke with a start. He was sweating profusely and breathing was heavy and laboured. Morning light streamed in through his window, warming his already hot skin. 

The dreams had felt so real, almost like memories, but that was ridiculous. Right?

He looked at his clock and shot out of bed. He was going to be late for work. He got dressed and rushed out of the apartment, grabbing a granola bar on the way.

He worked at a tech shop about five blocks from his apartment, so luckily he wasn’t late, but his boss, Jennifer, gave him a look like it was pretty close.

“If you weren't our best employee, you’d probably be fired about 5 different times by now.”

“I know,” Peter said, trying to calm down his racing heart. “I’m sorry.”

Jennifer shook her head and gave him a tired smile. “Just make a big sale today, and I’ll forgive you.”

He made two before his lunch break.

He was getting ready to go to lunch when the front desk bell rang.

“Is there a loser here who can tell me the best computer to use for planning city wide protests?”

He stumbled out from the back room and stared at Michelle who was smirking up at Jennifer. 

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer started, but Peter saved her.

“She’s joking, Jen.” He stepped around the counter and came to stand by Michelle who just smirked at him. 

He smiled back. “What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to visit,” she said. “And I figured you’d be going to lunch soon.”

Jennifer cleared her throat. Peter turned and saw her give him and Michelle a pointed look.

“Right, sorry, manners,” Peter ducked his head blushing. He gestured to Jennifer, “Michelle, this is my boss Jennifer. Jen, this is Michelle. We’re…”

He looked at her, trying to figure out the best words.

Michelle rolled her eyes, “We’re dating.”

Jennifer nodded then waved them off.

“Go to lunch,” she ordered. “Be back in an hour.”

“Got it,” Peter said and they walked out.

They found a hotdog vendor and took a seat at a nearby playground. Kids were running around screaming and laughing, their parents watched and gossiped.

Michelle and dragged him to sit in a small patch of grass near a bunch of dandelions. They ate, talked and laughed. Peter couldn’t believe how natural it all felt. Being around Michelle talking and joking with her. Listening to her talk passionately about her beliefs, it just inspired him to be better than he was. Though she always made a point to make him understand that he couldn’t do everything she said.

He wanted to though. He wanted to and that scared him a little. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, hotdogs finished. Michelle dragged her hand through the grass, and Peter could’ve sworn there weren’t that many dandelions when they’d sat down. 

He glanced up and saw her staring at him intently, as if searching for something.

“What?” he laughed nervously.

She kept searching, then shook her head.

“Nothing,” she sighed.

They walked back to the store, holding hands and Peter was blushing and giggling the whole way.

“What time do you get off?” she asked him. They’d stopped outside, pedestrians passing them.

“2,” Peter answered. “Wanna meet up later?”

Michelle nodded, then started to walk away, but Peter pulled her back into his arms, making her huff but smile. He kissed her lightly then let her go, watching her walk around the corner.

Jennifer gave him a knowing look when he walked in.

“Say nothing,” he ordered. She just shrugged then went back to sorting shelves. 

It was a long couple hours after that. There were so few customers that he and Jennifer took turns helping them.

By the time the evening shift came, they were both dying to get out.

He rushed home to change and to meet up with Michelle in the park. She was waiting for him under a huge tree, sitting against its trunk. 

He sat and leaned back next to her, enjoying the moment of quiet surrounded by the noises of the park.

“Why don’t you remember?” she finally asked in a small quiet voice.

He turned to look at her. She still had her eyes closed and her brow was furrowed. 

“Remember what?” he asked.

“Us,” she said, her voice cracking a little. “Me.”

Peter sat up and turned to face her. Her eyes opened and she looked at him. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. 

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“Of course you don’t,” she yelled. She pushed herself to stand and started stalking away. “Why would you? It’s only been, what, three centuries?”

Peter stood and tried to follow her. “Michelle,” he called but she didn’t stop. “Michelle, what are you talking about?”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. The tears were gone and all that was left was anger.

“I’m talking about us, being here after you promised we’d be together again.” People around them stopped to watch, but Michelle clearly didn’t care. “After you promised we’d be together forever. After what we risked to be together, after everything we went through, I thought you’d at least remember.”

She stalked away and Peter watched her, dumbfounded. He didn’t know what she was talking about, but it was clear she wasn’t in a place to answer his questions. He looked around and saw people staring at him. He ducked his head, tucked his hands into his pockets and shuffled home.

* * *

Hermes returned, informing them Zeus would be coming the next day. Hades and Persephone made their preparations. 

Persephone stood in the garden inspecting the table that had been set up. Food that had been prepared. The small court of nobility sat around it, all of them appearing unfazed and unworried for the coming storm. It was all grandiose just like the feasts on Olympus. If her father wanted to make a scene, then she’d make it a fabulous one.

Hades stood next to her, caressing her arms and playing with her hair. It helped soothe her anxieties for what was about to happen.

The doors opened and Zeus’ chariot rolled in, his horses escorted by the skeleton soldiers. They rolled to a stop and Zeus stepped down. He looked over the scene and sneered, his eyes flashing like lightning in a thunderstorm.

Hades and Persephone stepped forward, bowing respectfully.

“Brother,” Hades greeted. “We are honored to welcome you to the Underworld. It’s been some time since you last visited.”

“Yes it has,” Zeus replied, his posture remaining upright and rigid. “And I don’t wish to impose any longer than necessary.”

He reached a hand to Persephone. “Come,” he ordered. “It’s time to take you home.”

Persephone clenched her jaw, holding back the insults she wanted to hurl at him. She took a deep breath then smiled sweetly. 

“Surely we can stay a moment, father.” She gestured to the table. “They’ve prepared a lovely meal for the occasion.”

She saw the flash of recognition in his eyes.

“No,” Zeus insisted. He reached a hand out to grab her but she stepped out of his reach, and walked to the table. 

“Persephone,” Zeus called. “Step away from there.”

“But father,” she said, reaching for a pomegranate from a plate, “it all looks delicious.”

“No!” Zeus shouted but it was too late. 

Persephone took a bite and quickly chewed and swallowed, making sure she did eat it and her father saw it all. She turned to look at him. She shed her innocent facade and glared at him.

 He flinched under her glare but held his ground. Hades walked to her side and wrapped an arm around her waist. He looked to Zeus with a passive face.

“You can’t make me do anything,” Persephone said and took another bite of the pomegranate. “I speak for myself, especially in the Underworld.”

Hades waved his hand and crowns of gold and jewels appeared on their heads. At this point Zeus was silently fuming and Persephone was loving every second of it. Thunder rumbled over their heads. Hades shook his head.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he warned. “Think of all the mortals who would die if you called your lightning down from Olympus.”

The thunder quieted, but Zeus’ gaze was no less thunderous.

“You’ve made a mistake,” he said. He moved to his chariot and took the reins. “You both have.”

The chariot rode through the gates and flew out of the Underworld.

There was a moment of tense silence before everyone erupted into cheers. Hades and Persephone shared a passionate kiss before they sat at the table and joined the celebration feast.

A spirit noble across from Persephone leaned forward.

“You know you will have to remain here forever, my queen.”

Persephone looked to Hades and smiled.

“I’ll never leave,” she promised.

“And I’ll always be by your side,” Hades promised. “Forever.”

* * *

It had been a week. He hadn’t seen or spoken with Michelle in a week. Peter went about his life almost on autopilot. Work, home, sleep, repeat. He stared at her name on his phone willing himself to just push it and talk to her. But he told himself to wait. To let her come to him when she was ready. 

As the week went on, it was clear she wasn’t going to make the first move. Peter tried to force himself to but he didn’t know how, or what to say. He honestly didn’t know she’d been mad about.

Peter was at the apartment making dinner for himself. Ned had been out with Cindy all day so Peter was all alone. As he waited for the pot to boil, he sat at the small table staring at the vase of dying flowers Cindy had brought last week. Was that some sort of cruel metaphor? Dying flowers, dying love?

A knock at the door pulled him from his depressing thoughts. He went to open it, not really sure who it could be.

He opened it and froze where he stood because Michelle stood on the other side. Her wild hair was barely contained in a ponytail and her face was fuming. She pushed past him into the apartment, and Peter dumbly shut the door and shuffled in behind her. She looked around the small space he and Ned had shared for two years and shook her head. 

She took a seat at the table, crossing her arms and legs. If looks could kill, Peter would’ve been dead five times over. 

“Hi,” Peter breathed. He hadn’t realized how being away from her had really affected him. How could that be? He’s only known her for just over a week and she’d been absent for most of that. How could he stand there feeling overjoyed to see her again when he barely knew her?

“You didn’t call,” she ground out through clenched teeth. 

Peter sighed and moved to the stove, turning it off.

“I wasn’t sure I should,” he replied.

“Of course you should’ve, loser,” Michelle spat. 

Peter took the seat opposite of her and looked at her sadly. 

“I didn’t know how to respond after everything,” Peter explained.

“That’s when you call me,” Michelle said. “So that you can ask and we can talk about it.”

“We could’ve talked about it before you stormed out of the park,” Peter shouted, louder than he expected. “We could’ve figured it all out then, but you walked away.”

“You should’ve remembered by now,” Michelle countered out of nowhere.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter screamed. He stopped himself from slamming the table. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When he was calm he opened his eyes and saw her looking at him with a broken expression. 

“Why can’t you remember?” she whispered.

Peter sighed. They couldn’t seem to move past that one issue. He watched as she looked down at her hands then up to the dying flowers. Her jaw clenched. She reached a hand to the plants and brushed them lightly.

“We should’ve tossed those alre-” Peter stopped and stared at the scene occurring in front of him.

As Michelle passed a hand over the plants they seemed to come back to life, growing, getting back color and size. Michelle lifted her hand and Peter stared at the now fully live bouquet of flowers on the table. 

“How,” but he couldn’t think of the rest of the question.

Michelle sighed and stood up. “I create chaos,” she whispered and took a step toward the door.

In that step, Peter’s mind rushed with memories. Centuries in the Underworld, ruling and overseeing the dead, avoiding his boisterous and overdramatic brothers. Michelle in a garden, then coming with him and staying. Both of them ruling together, living together, loving each other. Then the disappearance of the gods and the spell he crafted to save them both.

“Persephone,” he whispered. 

Michelle stopped and looked at him. He could see the shock and hope clear as day on her face. 

“Hades?” she asked.

“My queen,” he said, standing striding to her.

They held each other tightly, not willing to let go. Peter felt tears on his face and he heard Michelle’s hiccuping breath from her crying.

“I was so afraid,” she whispered. “I thought I’d lost you, loser.”

Peter huffed a laughed and squeezed her tighter. Her time as Michelle had made her even more brazen, but he loved it and her. This time was perfect for his outspoken queen.

“I’m so sorry, I scared you,” Peter whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

They held each other longer, losing track of how long. All they could do was hold on for fear they would disappear if they let go. 

When Peter felt his tears subside, he slowly pulled back enough to look at her. 

She was still just as beautiful. She may have been a mortal but her godly beauty could not be diminished. 

He leaned in and kissed her, hungrily. He’d been denied her for centuries, he would not wait any longer. She kissed him back, tightening her arms around his neck. He pushed her gently toward his bedroom and started to untie the flannel around her waist.

“Flannel?” he asked jokingly. 

“Michelle was just as bisexual as we were centuries ago,” she said, pushing open the door behind her. “Now I had a way to show it in fashion.”

He chuckled and shut the door behind him. Michelle pushed him against the door, using her height against him. It made him moan loudly. She tugged at his shirt and pushed it over his head. He struggled getting it off, and she laughed as he got caught in the fabric.

“Shirts are more challenging than chitons,” he tried in defense.

“And they hide the muscles I’ve missed,” she added, running her hands up and down the now exposed skin of his upper body.

“Same with yours,” he said, grabbing her baggy shirt and yanking it up over her head. She was wearing a simple black bra underneath and his mouth watered at her form. Her long strong limbs, her small yet muscular figure. He remembered all those centuries ago, touching her skin for the first time. Now it would be like they were repeating that experience.

She pushed him back against the door and began kissing his neck. He couldn’t contain the moan that escaped him. She laughed against his neck.

“So loud,” she commented then returned to his neck.

“Peter was quite the virgin,” he explained. He reached down and started undoing the buttons on her pants. 

“Well, we’ll just have to fix that,” Michelle whispered huskily in his ear. “Won’t we?”

“Fuck,” Peter said, then moved from her pants to his. 

He yanked his pants down and awkwardly shoved them off. Michelle laughed as she watched her jeans still on her hips.

“You gonna stand there and laugh,” Peter asked, tossing his pants to the side, “or are you gonna get naked?”

Michelle hummed and pretended to think about it.

“Do you have lube and condoms?” she asked, taking a step backwards to the bed.

“Not in this room,” Peter admitted. 

“Then go get it,” Michelle said.

Peter nodded frantically then turned to open the door and rush to the kitchen. He opened a drawer where he knew Ned kept his extra lube and condoms.

Peter took a moment to breathe, trying to keep his already throbbing erection under control. His queen was waiting for him and expected him to please her before she rode him to his release.

He almost came from the memories all those centuries ago, but he grabbed what he needed and rushed back to the room. 

He stopped in the doorway at the sight awaiting him.

Michelle laid out on the bed, completely naked and carefully playing with herself. She was looking at the door with a sultry expression.

“What took you so long?” she asked, her voice husky. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting, love,” Peter quipped back. He stumbled to the bed, pulling his boxers off. 

“Whatever,” Michelle said, spreading her legs and placing her hands on the pillow behind her. “Just make it worth the wait.”

“Yes, my queen,” Peter said. He tossed the lube and condom onto the bed and crawled on to kneel between her legs.

He took in her figure, the smooth skin and long form, her hair spread around her head like a halo. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow.

He hovered over her body, leaning in to kiss her gently on her cheek.

“My beautiful queen,” he whispered then kissed her fiercely, sliding his tongue in to taste her lips.

Her arms wrapped around his back, pressing their bodies together. He felt the curve of her breasts and the bone of her hips. He slid a hand up her back and up to cup her breast, thumb grazing over her nipple. He could feel her groan as much as hear it. He brushed it again and her arms tightened around him.

He laughed then moved to kiss her jaw. 

“You know too many of my weaknesses,” Michelle grumbled as Peter kissed his way down her neck to her collarbone. He nipped at her skin and revelled in the way her breath hitched. 

“And you love it,” he said, his voice thick with lust against her breast.

She arched into his touch, cursing as he pulled away. He chuckled and flicked her nipple. She took a shuddering breath and her hands gripped the muscles in his back.

He pinched and brushed one nipple then took the other one into his mouth, sucking and licking.

Michelle cursed and her back arched, pressing up into the wet heat of his mouth. 

He took his time, savoring the taste and feeling, then kissed across to the other bud. He felt her legs rubbing against his and her hips canted up, pressing against his cock.

“Were you always this slow?” she hissed.

Peter lifted his head and smirked up at her, before pressing light kisses on her stomach.

“Only when you wanted it fast,” he responded between kisses.

He lowered his head until he was just a breath away from her stomach. He blew a cool breath on it and he watched goosebumps rise and heard her groan as she squirmed. 

“You fucking tease,” she mumbled.

He chuckled then lowered himself further. He breathed a hot breath on her folds and her whimpers and curses turned into moans.

“You fucking tease,” she repeated though with less venom in her voice.

He lifted her knees and placed his hands on the bed under them. Then he leaned forward and softly licked up her slit.

“Finally,” Michelle said, breathy and desperate.

He smiled then took another taste. He was gentle, carefully easing her open and massaging her with his tongue. He breathed in her scent and willed his aching cock to not release. 

“God, Peter,” Michelle whispered. Her legs moved to lay on his shoulders and back. “It’s been centuries. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Peter took a shuddering breath, then dove in with more vigor, licking and lapping her up. He tasted her sweet juices and found her clit. He lifted a finger to pressed the bundle of nerves as he kept up his ministrations.

Michelle moaned and cursed under her breath. Her body twisted, trying to move closer. 

The memory of their past life flashed in Peter’s mind as he tasted her. The first time, the fiftieth time. They’d never shared a night that wasn’t incredible to either of them. Now, it felt like the first time all over again, except he knew how to move his tongue to get her to shout out in pleasure, he knew the right amount of pressure to get her writhing, to grab his hair and urge him deeper. 

“Come on, loser,” she begged.

Peter reached a hand out blindly, searching for the bottle of lube. He nearly knocked it off the bed in his haste, but caught it before that unfortunate event could happen. He took the hand off her g-spot and got his fingers lubed up, huffing a laugh as she growled at the loss of pressure. He pulled off and kissed up her stomach and breasts until he could kiss her lips.

He carefully slid his fingers inside her, massaging the muscles to relax and open for him. His fingers were all the way in and he curled them up searching for the spot that would have her on top of him.

Her obscene moan told him he’d found it. He continued pressing the spot and kissed her jaw and cheeks.

Then suddenly, she pushed him to his back and swung her leg over him, straddling his stomach.

“Sit up,” she ordered, “put that condom on and put that dick in me now.”

He pushed himself to sitting and leaned against the headboard. He grabbed the condom packet and tore it open. He saw Michelle holding the lube bottle, squeezing some into her hand. Peter hurriedly rolled the condom over his rock-hard cock, Michelle’s lubed hand following behind. 

Peter moaned at the contact. He always forgot his own need when preparing her. He’d always loved taking care of her more, getting off by the sensation of making her cum.

“You were always so sensitive,” Michelle teased. She gave his cock a couple strokes and twists before she adjusted her position.

Peter breathed heavily as he watched her position herself over his cock. He reached his hands forward and let them glide along her sides. Michelle closed her eyes at the touch, then slowly lowered herself down his length. 

Peter moaned so loud, he was sure he’d be getting a complaint from his neighbors, but he didn’t care. Michelle was mounted on him and he knew the ride would be worth any complaints.

She leaned forward and kissed him desperately. He placed his hands on her back and pressed her close, needing to feel as much of her at once as he could.

She pulled away, tossed her hair out of her face, then started moving. Peter gasped and let his head hit the headboard. Michelle started slow, rolling her hips as she rode him. 

“God, I’ve missed this,” she grunted, picking up her pace. She put a hand on his chest, while she put the other on the headboard. Peter looked down at the hand pressed against his hot skin then followed the line of her arm up to her shoulder then down to her breasts. Right in his face. 

He placed a hand over the one on his chest and the other on her back. He leaned forward and began sucking her nipple again.

“Fuck, yes, loser,” she called out, vigorously riding his cock.

Peter began alternating between sucking her nipples and complimenting her.

“You’re more beautiful than the flowers you grow.”

Skin slapping on skin.

“You make the world beg for your command.”

Breathy moans.

“My wise confidante.”

Pressure on his chest.

“My majestic ruler.”

Faster.

“My queen.”

She shouted as she released and Peter came at the sight of her head thrown back, body shuddering, and her mouth open with her moans.

Her weight dropped to his chest and he held her close, sweaty skin pressed together. He pressed soft kisses on her face and along her hairline. 

“My domineering goddess, who loves to be worshiped,” he teased, pushing her wild hair from her face.

“Shut up,” she mumbled. 

Peter laughed and hugged her. He picked her up gently and laid her down on her back, pulling out of her. He stood up, pulled off the condom, and threw it in a nearby waste basket. He walked to the door.

“Where are you going?” Michelle tiredly asked.

Peter turned to look at her naked body stretched out on his bed. “To get you some water.”

Michelle nodded her approval and waved him off. He chuckled and quickly slipped out.

The apartment was quiet and empty as he quickly ran to the kitchen and filled a tall glass with water. He was thankful Cindy had convinced Ned to movie marathon at her place for the day as he walked back to his room, still fully naked.

He shut the door behind him and smiled at Michelle who had curled into a ball hugging a pillow. He sat on the edge and touched her shoulder.

“You still thirsty?” he quietly asked as she turned her head to look at him.

“Yes,” she groaned and sat up reaching for the glass in his hand.

He laughed as she guzzled the water down, tipping her head back for the last drops.

“You were always so thirsty after sex,” Peter said, taking the glass and setting it on the nightstand.

“Well wine didn’t appease as well as water does,” she huffed, falling back onto the bed. Peter crawled over her and settled himself at her side. She quickly wrapped her limbs around him and pressed close. He wrapped an arm around her and lightly kissed her hair and face.

He basked in the bliss of the moment. He remembered everything and he had her back. Everything was good.

* * *

The gods were dying.

Hades had tried to warn Olympus as the first of them began appearing in the Asphodel Meadows, more coherent than the mortal souls but still very much dead. Zeus would hear nothing of it. The gods were immortal. They were everlasting. So long as mortals believed, the gods would continue on into the millennia. 

Persephone knew better. Even her flowers died when they’d run their course. Just as flowers withered and dried out, so would the belief of mortals.

“What will happen to us?” she asked Hades.

“I don’t know,” he answered, sounding broken.

He pulled her into a hug and she held him tight, feeling his breath shudder as he cried. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

“And I, you,” she whispered back.

They did find a solution eventually. A spell given to them by the Fates. They could weave themselves into the tapestry of fate as mortals. They could be reborn.

Hades placed Thanatos over the Underworld. So long as mortals died, Death would remain strong, no matter what he was known as. 

It took a lot of time, but they did eventually disappear. Persephone went first. She’d slowly become less and less motivated to do anything. She spent entire days sleeping in their bed. In the weeks preceding it, she started to feel more hollow as if she was slowly being emptied of her insides. By the time she disappeared, she felt like a walking husk. A shadow of the once great goddess she had been.

She closed her eyes and they stayed closed until she awoke in the 21st century and found her love once again.

* * *

A month had passed and they were living their best lives. They spent as much time naked as they did clothed. They went about their mortal lives as if they hadn’t remembered they were reincarnated gods. Michelle became great friends with Ned and Cindy and Peter hit it off with Liz, Betty, and Abe.

One day, they were lying in bed, the morning sun warming their faces, when Michelle broached the topic.

“Do you think the Underworld still exists?”

Peter considered it.

In theory, the souls of the dead had to go somewhere, regardless of what they believed. Death came to all.

“Probably,” he answered. He looked at her sleepy face and smiled. “We could always go check.”

Michelle sat up and looked down at him.

“Really?” she asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Peter said, tucking his head behind his head. “We could go, check up on things, take some of the gold and jewels that’ve probably multiplied since we were last there.”

“We could move into a decent apartment,” Michelle mused.

“We could get Ned and Cindy one too,” Peter added.

“We wouldn’t have to work,” she said gleefully.

“We could travel the world,” Peter exclaimed.

“We could change the world.”

Peter looked into her eyes. They shimmered in the morning light. Her hair haloed around her head, sunlight making the edges glow like gold.

“We could change the world,” he echoed. “Let’s do it.”

* * *

Tony walked around the gala, bored out of his mind but putting on a good face. Pepper said he needed to schmooze the hell out of the investors in attendance. So he walked around, shaking hands and making small talk with old men and women who had nothing better to do than dress up fancy and drink champagne.

He made the circuit and found Pepper near the bar, typing furiously into her phone. 

“I think that’s everyone,” Tony announced sitting next to her and gesturing for a glass of whiskey.

“No,” Pepper said. “Still got one more couple.”

“Couple?” Tony asked exasperated.

“Yup,” Pepper said, typing again. “Happy just informed me they just arrived and they’re definitely worth kissing up to.”

Tony sighed. “Fine,” he swallowed his whiskey and set the glass back on the bar. “Who are they?”

Pepper looked up to the entrance and pointed at the odd couple that had just arrived.

Where many of the guests were older, often with grey or greying hair, the newcomers were young. Very young. Tony would’ve sworn the man looked like he should be in high school.

Then they were dressed differently than the rest of the guests. He wore a glittering gold suit that glinted in the light from the chandeliers above head. Then the girl who stood almost a full head taller than him, wore an off-the-shoulder gown with a bright floral print, and her hair looked frizzy from a distance but was surely styled perfectly.

They walked in with an air of confidence, as if they knew everyone would stare and didn’t care one bit. 

“Who are they?” Tony asked.

“Peter Parker and Michelle Jones-Parker,” Pepper explained. She grabbed Tony’s arm and yanked him off his seat and toward the couple. “Recently married and both recently came into a substantial inheritance. They want to use their money for the betterment of the world or some such nonsense. Now go get them to invest.”

She pushed him forward and he almost fell. He righted himself and plastered on his best “give me money” smile. 

“Mr. Parker, Mrs. Jones-Parker,” he greeted as if they were old friends. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both.”

He shook each of their hands and they smiled politely at him. 

“Mr. Stark,” Peter greeted. He even sounded like he was a teenager. “It’s a pleasure to be here. I was hoping to speak at length with you tonight.”

“Of course,” Tony said. “Let’s find a table and some drinks.”

He directed them to a nearby empty table. Peter pulled a chair out for Michelle then took his own seat, moving it closer to hers to drape his arm behind her. Tony sat across from them, getting a waiter’s attention.

“Champagne for all of us, please,” he told the young man.

“Actually,” Peter said, “my wife and I would prefer your best red wine.”

The waiter nodded and moved to get the drinks.

“So, Mr. Stark,” Michelle started.

“Please, call me Tony.”

Michelle smiled then continued, “Mr. Stark. We are considering investing a great deal of money into your company.”

“Well what can I do to make up your mind?” Tony asked playfully. Both smiled but seemed unaffected by his charm.

“We have some questions we would like you to answer,” Peter stated.

“Of course,” Tony replied. The waiter returned with their drinks. After he walked away, Tony continued, “What would you like to know?”

Peter took a sip of his wine, taking a moment to savor it, before he looked directly into Tony’s eyes.

“How much death do you think you’ve caused, Mr. Stark?”

Tony choked on his drink. He pounded his chest as he coughed out the drink, trying to get his breath back. 

“Excuse you?” he asked through gasping breath.

“Stark Industries designs, manufactures, and distributes weapons for the military and their operations overseas,” Michelle stated, swirling her wine in her glass. “Your creations have been used in no less than 56 separate missions that have ended in civilian deaths. Innocent lives, Mr. Stark.”

Tony stared at them in shock. They sat in front of him accusing him of borderline genocide. They sat relaxed, sipping wine and giving each other small affectionate touches, then throw unfounded, senseless accusations at him.

“I don’t know what you think gives you the right to-”

“We have the right, Mr. Stark,” Peter interrupted. Calm, composed, he looked at his wife, caressing his shoulder. “We are interested investors. We want to give you money in order to push you forward and to make the world a better place.”

“But we can’t do that,” Michelle continued, “on good conscience if you continue the work you’ve done.”

Tony took a deep breath, switching tactics.

“You’re both young,” he said. “You still don’t understand that the world isn’t so black and white.”

“Life and death are.” Peter leaned forward in his chair. He folded his arms and place them on the table. The image was so childlike, but his gaze bore into Tony’s soul. “Life and death are black and white. There’s a small grey area in between thanks to modern medicine and what constitutes as being dead, but life and death are quite distinct.”

Tony couldn’t believe that he was being told off by a couple of not yet adults.

“I don’t operate like that, kid,” he said. “Exploring the grey area is how each leap in science is made. I have a lot of people to appease and I can’t afford to deny them the services I’ve promised them.”

They were silent for a moment. The air was tense and charged. Tony knew that with one wrong word, lightning would strike.

Then Michelle tilted her head, looking at Tony with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. 

“I presume you’ve heard the phrase, ‘Death gives life meaning?’” she asked him.

Tony clenched his jaw and nodded.

“It’s true enough,” Michelle continued. “But what happens when you die a meaningless death?”

“What?” Tony asked, confused by the turn of conversation but unsure how to move past it. 

“What happens,” Michelle enunciated, “when you spend your whole life raising a family, caring for your children and providing for them every opportunity they deserve, only to die alongside them, without warning and without proper respects paid?”

“What happens,” Peter continued, “when you work for years to make the world a better place, only to compromise that goal in favor of the bottom line and the wallets of investors who only care about how big their house is or how many cars are in their garage?

They paused looking intently at Tony. 

When he just stared back, Peter emphasised, “Death gives life meaning, Mr. Stark, so what happens when you die a meaningless death?”

Tony didn’t know how to respond. His mind was a blank slate of confusion. 

The couple looked and nodded at each other. They stood swiftly.

“Your inventions could save the world, Mr. Stark,” Peter insisted.

“It would be a shame if your legacy was one of death and destruction,” Michelle finished.

She took his arm and they wove their way through the crowd to the exit. Tony stayed in his seat trying to process the strange conversation. Pepper came up to him, her expression curious and worried. 

“So how did it go?” she asked. 

“I honestly couldn’t tell you,” he said. He downed his champagne and stood up. 

“Well, will they invest?” Pepper asked exasperated. That seemed to be her constant mood with him at events like this. 

“Probably not,” Tony answered, checking the time. “Is it an acceptable time for me to leave?”

Pepper sighed and nodded.

Tony rushed out to his car, undoing his tie along the way. It had been a long party and the talk with the Jones-Parkers had been the last straw.

Except he couldn’t get the conversation out of his head.

How many lives have been hurt because of the weapons he, himself, had designed? 

How could two barely-legals talk to him like that? How could their words stick with him like that?

Who were they?


End file.
